My Biggest Secret
by BabyB.Believe
Summary: Sonya gets shot and the team tries to find out who did it and why. Meanwhile, Birkhoff reveals the secret about her he's been keeping and risks everything. Lots of Mikita! *features third party characters* Completely random story!
1. If Only They Knew

**This story's as random as you can get, but I felt like Sonya never really gets the attention she should on the series, so I decided to write a fanfiction about her. It features other new people that will appear later.**

**Set after 3x05.**

**Btw, English is not my main tongue, Portuguese is, so I'm sorry for any mistakes.**

* * *

If only they knew that the happiness would be over soon.

They were sitting around a round table having dinner. Everyone was cheering: they caught another of the Dirty Thirty. They were one step closer to home, and that was a reason to celebrate. It took a while to convince Ryan, but Nikita's persuasion skills were better than what he knew.

They were interrupted by the singular crash of the glass behind them. The bullet that passed in front of everyone made Nikita, Michael, Owen and Alex pull their guns off. It didn't make much difference. It was obvious that the bullet had come from a far distance.

"Sniper." Michael said before looking around. "Birkhoff!" he screamed and pointed to his right.

She was still alive, for what they could see, she got hit on the shoulder. Sonya was lying on the ground.

* * *

"Any news?" Ryan asked as Michael got into the room.

"Nothing so far." He answered and the hope of everyone went away like the wind. "It was definitely a sniper, he was probably on the roof of the building behind the restaurant. We searched the place. Nothing. She was lucky, though." Those words made everyone take their looks from the ground and put them on Michael. "They used the wrong bullet. The impact with the glass changed the trajectory."

"The cops?" Fletcher interrupted the awkward silence once again.

"As far as the world knows, an African-American women was shot by some racist guy that ran away and killed himself on an alley. The reports will say that she died before she got even to the hospital."

Everyone sustained their breath as Birkhoff got out of the elevator. As much as he didn't like to admit it, Sonya did mean something. He wasn't sure what, but it was something. Maybe love, who knows?

He walked trough Operations and quickly became everyone's center of attention. When he got into the briefing room, no one said anything. No one knew what to say. No one knew exactly what was going on between the two of them.

"She's stable, should be awake in an hour or two." He said while trying to clean the blood on his hands to his black pants.

"You OK?" Owen asked.

"Yeah, I just need..." he didn't finished. He just stared at the table, as if his actual soul or attention was way far away from that room.

"Seymour, are you ok?" Michael toutched his shoulder.

"I'M FINE!" He yelled and left the room through the other door.

He walked as fast as he could. He almost ran, as a matter of fact. He ignored the calls on his phone and the hills, probably from Nikita, that were running towards him. He locked himself up on his office. _Office_ wouldn't probably be the best word to describe it, giving the fifty thousand computers, the three million energy drinks and the DJ table. He sat on the table and took his private phone.

He stared at it for a few minutes. Wondering if he should make the call. In one hand, it would definitely help find out what was going on with Sonya, in the other, it could mean the last drop on the President, and that would mean massive death, that would kill both him and Sonya. But there's no life without _her_.

He dialed the number.

"Yes?" after a few seconds, a voiced was heard.

"Kate, you were right." he said and tears started to form in his eyes."She got hit."

"Seymour, are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes." he answered and couldn't help to think if he really was.

"I'm on my way." the women on the other side of the phone said and the line went dead.

Birkhoff couldn't help crying. If this was what he thought, there was nothing that could keep her safe, unless... He didn't want to think about it. There had to be a way.

* * *

******If you found any mistakes plz tell me and I'll fix it. **

**I know it's small, but I wanted to know if I should continue, can you plz tell me?**

** Reviews!**


	2. New People

**So, thank you so much for the reviews, I didn't really know how people would react to this kind of story, so I'm really happy you liked it! :) My exams are over, so I'll be able to post more often :) And, as usually, sorry for any mistakes :$**

* * *

Pain. There's different types of it. You can either feel it physically or emotionally. Ever since the little incident with Amanda, Seymour Birkhoff had always thought that the second type couldn't hurt more than any kind of other pain.

Now his opinion had changed completely. What he felt now was way worse than that. Unlike physical pain, when you fell this, you're never sure why you feel it, when you'll stop felling it, and there's not a damn thing you can do to _stop_ feeling it.

And that was, besides frustrating, extremely torturing.

He decided to go to medical. Actually, he didn't really _decide_ to go, but before he could notice, he was already behind the glass of the room where she was. Her hair wasn't bunched, like the usual. It was just loosed in curls next to her dark skin. For a moment there, he wondered to himself how he managed to get together with _her_. She was the nicest person he had ever met, she was gorgeous and had enough patience to put up with him. Every day.

His thoughts were interrupted by a hand on his shoulder. It was Ryan.

"You OK?" he asked.

"You know, I'd really appreciate that people stopped asking me that." He said, more offensively than what he thought he would. "Sorry, I'm just frustrated."

"I know." Fletch answered.

"I made the call." Birkhoff informed after a few moments. "I don't know about you, but I'm not going to stand by and watch her getting shot again and die. I'm not."

"I figured you'd make the call. What did she say?"

"She's on her way." He looked at him. "They should get here in a couple hours." He advised before looking to the glass again. "You should get things ready, this place gets even more creepier when people from the outside get in."

"Bad timing jokes. You're not as bad as I thought." Ryan said with a smile and went away, already talking on his phone.

Birkhoff only had a couple seconds alone before he felt the warm hand of Nikita on his back. He didn't have time to react, she turned him around and hugged him. One of those hugs only Nikita could give. She held him for over a minute and when they pulled away, Birkhoff's face was serious. No emotion. That even got Nikita more worried than what it would if he was crying. Before either of them could say anything, both their phones rang.

From: Ryan Fletcher – "_Ops, now._"

As they walked, Birkhoff's face was kept inexpressive, even when they got into Ops. And that was strange, because the place was empty, and it is never empty. It didn't take much thinking to realize something's going on. And it wasn't just about the shooting. Something _big_ was going on. Sonya's picture was on the big screen of the briefing room, along with her Division file.

"I know everyone's disturbed because of what happened last night, but we still have to find out who did it and why, ok?" Ryan asked.

"I think the _why_ is pretty obvious." Michael's voice has heard in the room.

"Maybe not." Ryan said. "We don't know much about her life, and what we know is a lie."

"What do you mean?" Alex asked confused.

"Sonya works for another agency, and she's been here for the past 5 months working undercover, trying to bring down Division." While Birkhoff was talking, everyone's faces were as surprised as you can get. "Now that Percy's dead and Division's cleaning is been supervised by the President, her extraction was dated for next week."

"Wait, what?" Michael said like Birkhoff was a child trying to tell a story. "You're kidding right?" he asked, but Birkhoff's face was enough to make everyone believe the story he had told.

"The agency's former director is on his way here." Ryan informed.

"Wait, someone from the outside?" Owen asked. "I thought they weren't allowed here."

"The call came from the President, it seems like they asked to meet us here, so that they could see Sonya. That's why no one's here. Everyone went home_, 'I gave them the day off'_ because of the chock and everything. " Ryan explained.

"But just one thing: why the _former _director?" Michael asked.

"Because he's Sonya's father." Birkhoff said and that caused a silence in the whole room.

* * *

The news surprised everyone, probably because it didn't make any kind of sense. Sonya looked like a normal girl. She had skills, so Amanda got her in Divison. No one in their perfect mind would believe what Birkhoff was saying, but honestly, who would believe there was a secret agency of elite serial killers being ran by a secret society called _Oversight_?

Orange lights started spinning everywhere and a big sign saying "_Perimeter Birch_" appeared on every screen. When they turned around, the team saw a stout, black man, in his late forties, who they believed to be the former director Fletcher was talking about. The man was accompanied of a white young girl in her early twenties, maybe not even that. As they were walking from the elevator, the presence of that man was felt in the entire room. He radiated power and superiority, making everyone in the room feeling like they had to show him some kind of subjection. When Birkhoff saw him, he hastened to go greet him with a handshake and a few words without stop walking.

"This is Christian Henderson, Sonya's father and the Agency's former director." Seymour explained him when they reached the briefing room. Ryan gave Christian a handshake.

"You must be Ryan Fletcher. You've been a piece of work for the Capitol." the man's voice was heard for the first time.

"So I've heard." Fletcher answered.

"This is Caitlyn Williams." The former director presented her. "She's going to help us with Sonya's past."

Everyone looked to the girl, who went unnoticed next to the man. Her curly white-brown hair was bunched on the back of her head, leaving some tresses framing her face, and those green eyes could hypnotize whoever looked at them.

"Call me Kate."

Those three words were the only ones that she pronounced for a long ten minutes while everyone was discussing theories. No one knew exactly if the attack had been because of her work with Division, and whoever shot her didn't know she was undercover, or if it was because of one of her old missions. Or, the more dangerous of all of them, if who shot her did it because they knew she was undercover. After a while everyone was getting frustrated, they were getting nowhere.

"Weren't you supposed to help?" Alex asked Kate, who was leaning against the wall. For a moment there, no one realized she was even there; the way she could go unnoticed was frustrating to the people around her. "Sonya almost died and you're standing there like nothing's happened."

"She was my friend too." Kate answered, keeping her face unexpressive.

"She was?" Nikita said with a louder tone than she usually does. "You have a funny way of show it."

"Yeah, I'm pretty much sure you weren't brought here to stand in the back staring at us." Owen argued.

She moved her head towards Christian, looking for some kind of permission, which she obtained. "The prime reason I was brought here was to help you, of course, but also to watch you." She revealed.

"Watch us?" Nikita was confused.

"Analyze behavior." She explained.

"Profiling." Michael understood what Kate meant.

"You can call it that." She confirmed

"Why? You needed to make sure we didn't have anything to do with the shooting?" Alex asked offended.

"Yes," Christian confirmed. "but also because of the containment plan."

"The President asked Chris, who asked me, to profile each one of you to make sure you're apt to clean Division the way it's supposed to." Caitlyn explained.

"So basically you're one of the people who decide…" Michael started talking.

"If you live or not."

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**So what do you think? Should I continue? I need reviews, people! :)**


	3. IMF

**Thanks for all the reviews, guys! I'm really happy :) Here's another chapter.****.. And, as usually, sorry for any mistakes :$**

**It follows 3x05, so Sonya's NOT the mole!**

* * *

"That's impossible!" Owen almost yelled and looked around. "C'mon guys, do you really think the President would confide our lives to a kid?"

"If you're worried about my age, I can assure you that I've proved my value, Mr. Eliot." The girl assured.

"Oh, you're right. I am." Owen was furious.

"Owen, back off." Alex said with a sweet voice as she put her hand on his back.

"You should listen to your girlfriend." Christian warned with a strong voice. "Don't make me spank you."

"Leave the guy alone, dad." Sonya's sweet and singular voice was heard by everyone.

They looked down at Ops. There she was. Instead of her usual dress or formal skirt, she was wearing black shorts, a black top shirt and snickers. You could see red sports of blood on the bandage that was covering her shoulder. She kept walking up to them.

"You should be resting." Seymour told her before she hugged Christian. "How did you even get out of medical?"

"She can be very persuasive." Caitlyn said when they pulled out.

"Learned from the best." Sonya said, looked at her and Caitlyn's phone rang.

"How, you've got to be kidding me…" she said. "I answered the last one. It's your turn." She handled the phone to Christian, who left the room for a few minutes.

"What's going on?" Michael asked.

"The director. Let's just say she's not _happy_ that we're here." Caitlyn explained.

"Bureaucracy?"

"Pretty much. And of course, the fact that this place is filled with elite serial killers. No offense." She answered and Christian handled her back the phone.

"Well, I think it's time for you to meet IMF." He said with a smile on his face.

* * *

The _campus _was not what everyone was expecting. Perhaps because they didn't even know what IMF meant, was or what was its job. Christian, Caitlyn, Sonya, Seymour, Michael and Nikita drove for a long hour into… Well, they were, pretty much, in the middle of nowhere. The only thing they could see around them was grass, tress, and more grass and trees. And, in the middle of it, a big parking lot, with some cars, a white building and a ten feet high wall that was stretched for almost a hundred yards to each side of it. They entered the facility.

That was it: _things could get any creepier_.

It was huge! As they entered trough the main gate, they could hear the kids laughing and yelling. The place that thirty seconds ago seemed like a Nazi concentration camp, know looked like a school. A big, huge school in which people needed golf cars to move around from point to point. The building they entered was right next to the main gate, so they only had time to see the football camps before they were approached by a security guard who took their phones and guns.

"Now that's exaggerate." Michael said when they took his iPhone.

"Protocol. When it comes to outsiders the rules here are very restrictive." Seymour explained as Caitlyn passed her eyes through the retina reader and entered through the door next to the elevator alone.

Seymour pressed the -3 button. "Underground facilities. Is this some kind of younger Division?" Nikita asked with an angry voice.

"No." was the only answer she obtained from Christian, and no one else talked.

The Centre of Operations was what everyone was expecting. The main room had a screen wall all around it and there were some doors with names on them. Offices, they supposed. There was also a big screen table on the middle of the space and several small others around it. In front of them there was a line of computers turned to the main screen.

They were approached by a woman, but apart from that everyone kept working like there wasn't anything happening.

"Welcome back, Sonya." She said with a smile. "You must be Nikita." The woman gave her a handshake. "I'm Alice Miller, IMF's director. I'm sorry we had to hide Sonya's identity," the director started walking towards the centre of the room and everyone followed her. "but we are aware that there's a mole within Division and we couldn't risk the knowledge of our agency."

"We understand your position, and we're hoping you'll understand ours as well." Michael explained.

"We do."

"Ma'am, there's an incoming call from the Hill." A women sitting behind a computer told Alice. "It's the president."

Caitlyn appeared coming from the stairs in the other side of the room, followed by a girl and two guys. "I'll brief them." She said and opened a door saying '_Special Operations_'. "Good luck" she told the director as everyone entered the office.

This room did not look like an office of special operations. It looked like living room. The floor and walls were in wood. There was a round table and a couch. And, in front of the couch, there was a screen. Nikita and Michael stood side by side in front of everyone. Well, everyone except Birkhoff. He just sat on the table looking to nowhere.

Sonya took his hand. "Come walk with me?" She said, in a kind of child talking, and they both left the room through another door.

They went to the _campus_ itself, in the back of the Operations building. While they were walking on the grass, Sonya never left his had go. She was worried. She was worried about her safety, giving the maniac somewhere out there looking forward to kill her, but she was even more worried about _his_ safety.

Birkhoff had been the only one she wasn't able to keep the truth from. Her feelings got in the way and she had to tell him. And, for the last two months, he had been keeping her secret from his friends. He had been keeping her secret from his family. She brought him to IMF and he met Christian and everyone. She thought that would make it easier for him. Maybe knowing that IMF was a good place, a good agency, would make him understand why she need to kee secret.

Ever since she was kid, Sonya was taught _not_ to get personally involved on operations. But he was different. His childish, inappropriate, frustrating and teen attitude was exactly what she needed. She needed someone fun, someone who could free her from the 'grown up' world she was put in too early.

_And he was perfect_. The more she told herself that same thing over and over again, the more she started to believe it was true.

"Do you know how my father described you after he met you?" Sonya asked him and he nodded. "An addict on energy drinks with a childish attitude who will never realize the danger of the world he's living in."

"What did you tell him?" he asked with a sad voice.

"I agreed on the energy drinks and the childish attitude." She said and his perfect and unique smile appeared on his face. "But I think you know the danger of this world. And that's exactly why you hide yourself behind the toys and computers." He looked to the ground. "Hey…" She grabbed his face with her hands. "But that's OK. Honestly, I prefer that than some guy diagnosed with PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder)."

"Sonya, I don't know if I can handle it." He said and tears started running down his face. "If anything happens to you… I will never forgive myself." She hugged him.

"I know… I'm scared too."

* * *

_Meanwhile at the Special Ops Office..._

__Sonya and Birkhoff left the room.

"I thought we were going to be briefed on this place." Nikita asked.

"You are, but it's nothing Seymour needs to hear again. He really does care about Sonya and knowing that she's in danger has been killing him from the inside out." One of the guys said. "I'm Jason by the way." a friendly smile appeared on his face. "This is Edward," he pointed the other guy. "and Lilian. We're part of the team."

"Do you have any idea who might be pulling this off?" Michael asked.

"We only have a few theories, but it's hard not hard to find enemies on Sonya's record." Edward explained. "She had her first mission at IMF when she was eleven, and since then she done over twenty."

"And these were just while she was a regular agent. She's been Head of Ops for the last two and a half years." Lilian said. "But still, she holds a clean record."

"This is going to be a long night."

* * *

_9 am _

Everyone had work through the night. Lilian was eating cereals sitting on the couch along with Jason while they were reading files and Nikita was on the phone with Ryan. Sonya was lying on the other couch sleeping (effect of the painkillers). Michael and Caitlyn were going through Sonya's old missions.

"Wait, I think I've got something." He said. "Jonathan Wellbore. Sonya put his father away for life."

"No. Operation Wellbore in 09. I shot him myself." Kate answered and ate a grape.

"Hey guys, you need to see this!" Birkhoff rushed into the room and turned on the TV.

"Yesterday, an afro-american woman was shot and killed on a restaurant in Hoboken, New Jersey. Police reports say it's a crime of racism." The journalist said. "No one's sure of anything by now..." the image frizzed.

"Kate, that guy on the corner." Birkhoff appointed.

"No freaking way…" she whispered with an almost inaudible voice. "Is that Chanser? Sonya!" she called and the black woman woke up. "Is it in any way possible that Jackson Chanser is alive?"

"No." she said with a gape. "I planted a charge on his room and you shot him. Why?"

"Well, that's definitely him." Jason said and zoomed in on the image.

"That's impossible."

"Wait just a second, who the hell is Jackson Chanser?" Nikita asked.

"He's what we call a _tracker_. Sometimes, when the risk of the agency being discovered, we use trackers to find our targets. It the possibility of the job being tracked to us." Lilian explained. "They're usually ex-military or, like in this case, navy. They use their abilities to track and find people."

"Honestly, I'm starting to think navy training also gives them extra lives." Seymour tried to joke.

"Well, if there's anything this life's taught me is that _marines_ don't die, they just go to hell and regroup." Caitlyn said. "Seymour…"

"Damon's landing in twenty minutes."

"Who the hell is Damon?" Michael whispered to Nikita.

* * *

**So, what do you think?**

**Just to be clear, Sonya's agency is going to be based on the novels of Robert Muchamore, CHERUB. I didn't make it a crossover because the only thing in common it's going to be the agency itself, not any of the characters. And the name, well... I think that IMF (impossible mission force) it's kind of catchy, do I figured I'd use it :)**

**Any questions, fell free to ask me!**

**Reviews plz!**


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